A prayer for Chris…

Last week, an email was sent from co-worker Cynthia Martinez to all Express-News employees. Child Protective Services were seeking sponsors to purchase Christmas gifts for children that had recently been placed in foster homes. The gifts would then be distributed at a Christmas party at the CPS office.

The list, of about 12 children, included names, age, and sex and gift suggestions. As I scrolled down the list I saw a child named Jason. Naturally, for selfish and obvious reasons, I wanted to sponsor a child named Jason. But he had already been sponsored. Also on the list was a child named Jacob. Jacob seemed close enough to Jason, so I asked if I could sponsor him. But someone had already offered to sponsor Jacob.

Right under Jason and Jacob was a child named Chris. And although Chris doesn’t sound anything like Jason I chose to sponsor him. He was 2 years old and educational toys were listed as a gift suggestion. After forcing myself to get over the idea that I couldn’t create my own irony and sponsor a child with the same name as Jason Jr., I text messaged my husband to let him know we were sponsoring a child named Chris.

That same night my husband, Jason Jr. and I went to the store to buy Chris a gift. We bought three items; triangular crayons for kids learning to write and draw, a writing pad, and a toy that teaches children to say everyday words in English and Spanish.

After buying the gifts, my heart wasn’t satisfied. I felt like I could do more to give back. Buying a few gifts and throwing them in a pile amongst dozens of others wasn’t my idea of making a difference. So I emailed Cynthia and another co-worker Stephanie to see if my husband and I could work as volunteers at the Christmas party. They said we could.

So last Saturday my husband and I made our way to the CPS office at about 9 a.m. We passed out candy canes to children as they took pictures with Santa Claus. And then we went to the arts and crafts area and helped children decorate ginger bread men cookies.

It was a blessing. There were so many children and they were so full of life. But in the back of my head I wondered if Chris was there. The children didn’t have on name tags. The only way I would know it was Chris was if I saw him with the gifts I had purchased. Toward the end of the party, I saw three little boys. The boys were accompanied by an older man and woman. The woman was holding the gifts I purchased.

I tapped my husband and darted toward the family. I walked up to the woman and asked, “Are one of these little guys named Chris?”

She said yes and pointed to the smallest of the three boys. The first two boys, ironically, were Jason and Jacob. The three were brothers. Jason and Jacob were active and ready to eat treats and decorate ginger bread men. But Chris was quiet. He didn’t talk. He seemed scared. I walked up to him and he reached out his hands to grab mine.

As I made simple conversion with him, the lady who I assumed was his foster mother, said, “Honey, he’s not going to talk.”

She was right. He never said a word. But I still talked to him just as I do Jason Jr.

At the party I met so many outspoken and funny children. But thoughts of Chris were heavy on my heart and mind. When we got home I told my husband that I was going to pray for all the children, but especially for Chris. And so now when Jason Jr. and I say our prayers at night, we say them like this:

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray to the Lord, my soul to keep,

If I should die before I awake,

I pray to the Lord my soul to take,

Bless mama, bless daddy,

Bless my family friends,

Bless the children at the CPS party and bless Chris,

Bless the world, in Jesus’ name I pray,

Amen.

Jason Jr. is only 5 months, so he is unable to repeat the prayer. But we hold hands and he smiles when I say the prayer.